


XIII. Confrontation

by causeimdifferent



Series: Wanted [13]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Jealousy, Love, Love Triangle, M/M, Romance, a bit of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy fights Philip.</p><p>Philip fights for Thomas.</p><p>Thomas fights with Carson.</p><p>Some winners are losers and some losers are winners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	XIII. Confrontation

Things happen so fast that Thomas only grasps what's going on as Philip is already lying on his back, Jimmy above him.

Punching his face.

There is blood already.

Philip doesn’t hit back.

 

Philip is a good fighter. Thomas knows.

He never stood a chance in their occasional playful or not so playful brawls.

Philip could take Jimmy out in a matter of seconds.

If he wanted.

He doesn’t.

 

Instead Philip laughs at Jimmy, provoking him to hit harder.

Then he looks at Thomas.

And Thomas jumps Jimmy, to drag him away.

“Dammit, Jimmy, are you nuts?” Thomas holds Jimmy tightly from behind, locking his arms.

Philip sits up, his right eye already swelling, his lip busted, blood trickling from his nose.

“Calm. Down.” Thomas shakes Jimmy hard, who is struggling against his grip.

“Keep your hands off of him”, Jimmy hisses at Philip and Thomas just prays they don’t have an audience.

To no avail.

 

“What! Is going on!”

The heads of the three men turn towards the front door in unison. Carson.

“Fantastic job, Jimmy. Just marvellous”, Thomas sighs into the footman’s ear and lets him go.

“Nothing, Mr. Carson. Just a little misunderstanding.”

Which sounds like a ridiculous attempt to explain this mess even to Thomas’s own ears.

And Philip has nothing better to do than to actually laugh at this, as he is getting back on his feet.

“Thomas, James, in my office. Now.”

_Great._

 

Thomas lets go of Jimmy.

“I’m sorry, Philip”, he says, his features softening with sympathy at the sight of Philip’s mauled face.

Prompting Jimmy trying to get at the Duke yet again.

“Jimmy, goddammit”, Thomas pulls him away less than tenderly and shoves him towards the door, “bloody go inside and tell Carson I’ll join you in a second.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Heavens, do as you’re told, James”, Thomas bellows.

Jimmy complies, at last.

 

“Congratulations, Mr. Barrow”, Philip attempts a smile, “A pretty prince going to war for you. I’m jealous.”

“Did you have fun taking all those punches, you idiot?”

“The one who gets hit, gets all the attention.”

And all the compassion.

There was a time when Thomas would have paid money to see Philip this fucked up.

Not anymore.

“Dolt”, he mutters and it sounds like a term of endearment.

“When?” Philip asks.

Thomas sighs.

 

“Mr. Barrow”, blusters Carson from above.

“In a second, Mr. Carson”, Thomas replies, without breaking eye contact with Philip.

“Please, Thomas”, Philip says and the smile has disappeared. “I’d go down on my knees, if I knew it would not embarrass the shit out of you.”

Thomas could listen to Philip's pleas for hours on end.

“Alright”, he says, “tomorrow night.”

_Tonight is already reserved for someone else who needs to get his ass smacked._

“Thank you”, Philip whispers.

A drop of blood falls from his busted lip.

 

“What. Was this all about?”

Carson is fuming.

I can’t say, Mr. Carson”, Jimmy blurts out, before Thomas can even open his mouth, “it is something personal.”

Thomas groans.

“Do you have anything to add, Mr. Barrow?”

“No, Mr. Carson, I guess not”, is all Thomas can muster.

Carson glowers at him: “You have started a brawl in broad daylight in front of His Lordship’s house. Should that ever occur … “

“Do you even know who that was?” Jimmy cuts him short.

“Jimmy, shut up”, Thomas hisses at him.

“That man is a former convict and he … he’s molesting Mr. Barrow.”

“Shut up, Jimmy!”

“Silence! James, take a leave. I will deal with you later.”

 

“Thomas, why do I feel that as long as you are in this house there will be trouble?”

_Well, we both know why, don’t we, Mr. Carson?_

“It is hard to ignore that there have been certain frictions between James and yourself lately. Can I trust you this has nothing to do with any moral misconduct on your behalf?”

“Er … excuse me, Mr. Carson?”

“That Mr. Abagnale of yours … bears a striking resemblance to a certain Duke of Crowborough who, if I am informed correctly, did indeed spend quite an amount of time behind bars. Do you think, Mr. Barrow, His Lordship would approve of you having relations with persons of such reputation? Because I surely don’t.”

“Well, Mr. Carson … I do not regard his offense as such and therefore to me he is someone innocently convicted. I call him a friend – and I am not ashamed to do so.”

“A _friend_.” Carson pronounces the word as if denoting something unappetizing.

“Yes, Mr. Carson. I assure you, there is nothing immoral or illegal going on between the Duke and myself.”

_At least not according to my understanding._

“So he is not, as James suggested, ‘molesting’ you?”

“No, Mr. Carson. James is just worried, just as you are, that associating with him might get me in trouble.

“And rightly so.”

Carson leans back in his chair.

“You are aware, that you are treading very thin ice here, if you are defending and continuing such relations.”

Thomas can’t think of any reply that would not be a lie or aggravate Carson further.

“You’ve been on such a promising path those past few years, Thomas. Do not throw it all away just because …”

“Just because I want a little piece of happiness, Mr. Carson …?”

_Oh bugger, Thomas, why don’t you just shut up?_

“You do understand, that I have to ask of you to cease these relations immediately.”

_No. I do not understand. Why you don’t understand._

_What it is like to live in hiding all the time. All those years with not a glimpse of hope that it ever gets better._

_Never to be able to wake up with your lover in the morning._

_What it is like to live with this hunger, this desire that’s eating you up from the inside.  
To be loved and to love freely and openly and without fear of being ostracized for it. _

_You don’t understand anything._

_No. I do not understand._

_I do not understand, why you don’t understand and why the world is so designed._

_I am tired of feeling beat down and forced to hide who I am._

_I’m so fucking tired of it, you have no idea, and no, I will not cease these relations immediately._

_I.Won’t._

“Mr. Barrow?”

“Yes, of course. Mr. Carson, as you say.”


End file.
